


In Which Everyone Makes New Friends and Attends a Birthday Party

by fawatson



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault, Winnie-the-Pooh - A. A. Milne
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 07:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1974201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his sleep Laurie collects characters from Winnie-the-Pooh and takes them to the 10 year old birthday celebrations for maryrenaultfics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Everyone Makes New Friends and Attends a Birthday Party

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally posted to:** maryrenaultfics at LiveJournal on 06/07/2014 **Originally written for:** This story was written as a part of the MRF community's 10th birthday celebrations.  
>  **Author's Notes: (1)** Some characters from _Swallows and Amazons_ have also been included, in reference back to the crossover _Swallows and Amazons/The Charioteer_ story written by Greer Watson for Yuletide 2013. However that aspect of the story is undeveloped and therefore this is not a true crossover story with S&A. (2) _Winnie-the-Pooh_ by A.A. Milne was first published in 1926, so Laurie would certainly have known Pooh when he was a child, although, if born when canon suggests, not as the very young boy we meet in the first chapter (which would be the usual age to be introduced to Pooh-bear). (3) This story is set in the "In Their Own Words" meta-universe in which characters from Renault's novels socialise at their own 'clubhouse' and are aware of their own status as characters in novels, are also aware of fans, and sometimes choose to interact with them, and have taken their own initiative to organise some aspects of the birthday celebrations themselves.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit by them.

“Which story tonight, Laurie?” asked Aunt Olive. 

“The next one,” Laurie said. “They’re meant to be read in order.”

“But you’ve heard them all before, Laurie,” came the mild protest from Aunt Olive. 

“There’s no point arguing with a boy his age, Olive,” Lucy returned as she watched from the doorway. “And _no_ point telling him that he’s really too old for those books, or that he’s read them before. You can’t tell a teenage lad anything. Your father gave them to him years ago when he had measles, all because of that 'Sneezles' poem, which seems to have caught his imagination (though I cannot imagine why). He always goes back to them when he’s been unwell. I put a bookmark where we left off yesterday.” 

“Can I have two tonight, Mum?” asked Laurie as he snuggled under the covers. 

“ _May_ I, Laurie –”

“May I?” (He was really too old to make such a simple mistake, thought Lucy; it was a sign of how unwell he had been.)

“No, one is enough.” Despite the pleasure of having him home for holidays, and her worries about his health (he had had a bad case of chickenpox with a _very_ nasty fever), Lucy still reinforced routines. To Olive she added _sotto voce_ , “It’s his first day up, so he’ll likely be asleep before you’ve done.” With that she left them to it. 

Olive made herself comfortable in the wicker rocking chair next to the bedside table, leaning into it slightly to better use the small lamp, as the overhead light had been turned off preparatory to Laurie getting into bed. She set her glasses on her nose, and opened the book, peering slightly in the dim light. 

“Nobody seemed to know where they came from, but there they were in the Forest: Kanga and Baby Roo....”

As predicted, it wasn’t long before Laurie was fast asleep.

>>>>

One morning, Winnie-the-Pooh (or Pooh for short) decided to visit Piglet for breakfast. He hadn’t _planned_ to visit Piglet, truth be told; and (since he was an honest sort of bear, Pooh was uncomfortably conscious of this) he hadn’t been _invited_ for breakfast either. But he’d woken hungry; and, when he looked in the cupboard, the only honey pots staring back at him were empty. And he felt a sort of hollow feeling in his tummy. So Pooh started out for Piglet’s house. Perhaps his friend had a small morsel of something to keep body and soul together.

The sun was shining brightly as Pooh took the trail that skirted past the six pine trees, before branching off toward the beech grove where Piglet lived. He hummed a little song as he walked; presently – as he passed the heffalump trap – he sang it loudly (to help keep his spirits up). 

Tar-rum-ta-ta  
Tar-um-ta-tee  
Higglety-ho (higglety-hee)  
Tarum-ta-tee

He was quite pleased with the tune, so he sang it again; but there _was_ something missing. He’d begun it a third time when he heard a voice. 

“There aren’t any words, silly old bear.” 

Christopher Robin!

Pooh almost called out happily. Yet surely, he thought, that hadn't been quite Christopher Robin's voice.

He turned round. He _was_ right: it wasn’t Christopher Robin. There was a much bigger boy behind him.

“And you took the wrong turn if you want to go to Piglet’s.”

“Well, as it happens,” Pooh responded with as much dignity as he could muster given his shock at seeing a stranger in the 100 Aker Wood, “I’d reconsidered going to Piglet’s and thought I’d perhaps visit Rabbit’s house instead.” He sucked his paw as he thought a moment. “On account of how it’s Sunday and Rabbit often has his friends and relations round to afternoon tea on Sunday.” It never occurred to him to wonder how a boy whose existence he’d not even heard of a moment before knew of his plans to visit Piglet. 

“But it’s only morning,” said the boy. (Really he was a very awkward sort of boy.)

“As it happens, I was planning to invite Rabbit to come on an expotition to the South Pole, where I understand there are some very nice berries to be found – just the sort for tea.”

The boy just looked hard at Pooh. It was a rather deflating sort of look (not the kind to make a bear feel completely comfortable); but regardless he rallied valiantly, and stuck out a paw, bowing slightly.

“Hello, I’m Pooh.”

“I’m Laurie,” replied the boy. 

“You must be a friend of Christopher Robin’s,” said Pooh. “I’m afraid he’s away just now; can I help?” 

Laurie grinned. “I thought I’d come and help with your expotition. Shall we get started?” He marched off in the direction of Rabbit’s. He seemed to know his way round the 100 Aker Wood, though Pooh was quite sure he’d never met this boy before. 

Presently the boy began singing a little song: 

_Isn’t it funny_  
How Laurie likes honey  
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!  
I wonder why he does? 

Pooh was _sure_ he’d heard that song before, even if he had never met this boy before. 

“Why yes, of course you have,” explained Laurie when Pooh asked. “It’s _your_ song; you taught it to me. You sang it when you climbed the tree with the honey bees.”

“Oh!” said Pooh, “then we have met before.” 

“Yes, of course,” said Laurie. 

“I’d forgotten,” said Pooh. “It’s one of those things that happens when you have very little brain,” he added humbly.”

“Never mind,” said Laurie, “you don’t really need much brain to look for the South Pole. And you’re right in a way,” he added comfortingly. “The song didn’t really have much to do with our expotition.” So they set off again.

Presently they were joined by Tigger who bounced up in that excited way he has, and on being told about the expotition, decided he wanted to come along too. Rabbit, however, declined, when they reached his house, explaining kindly but firmly that since he was expecting his friends and relations for tea, he really did not have time today to go exploring. However, some berries would come in very nicely, thank you very much, if Pooh were fortunate enough to find any. The thought of food reminded Pooh of just how very hungry he was, doubly so since the walk; and he turned so pale with hunger-pangs that Rabbit, alarmed, cut two slices of bread which he spread liberally with butter and plum jam, before handing them to Pooh (who was sitting on the step, having had _quite_ a funny turn). 

Restored somewhat after a bite to eat, Pooh and friends set off, Tigger, as usual, running ahead, while Laurie and Pooh brought up the rear. They caught up with Tigger in a clearing playing with Roo, who was squealing loudly as he tumbled on and off Tigger’s back. Kanga, looked on indulgently, periodically calling, “Now do be careful, Roo, dear,” but making no moves to curtail the play which was clearly delighting her son. She sat on a picnic blanket, an enormous wicker basket beside her, with a large red-check tablecloth spread out, laden with sandwiches, lemonade, cake, peaches and grapes. Pooh promptly sat down right beside Kanga. 

“I say, Pooh, do look before you sit!” protested Piglet indignantly, extracting himself, somewhat squished, from beside Kanga.

“Sowwy.” Pooh’s apology came out a bit muffled through the cake he had stuffed into his mouth. 

Protective mother that she was, under the guise of offering sandwiches, Kanga quickly repositioned herself so she was next to Laurie, and began a series of pleasant but probing questions to ascertain how he came to be here. Well-schooled by his own mother, Laurie easily withstood this gentle interrogation. From Kanga’s perspective, satisfied this was no ‘Great White Hunter’ out to turn her precious Roo into a trophy for his wall, she visibly relaxed. However Roo’s excitement at the thought of joining an expotition brought her motherly instincts bristling to the fore again. 

“I think not, Roo, dear,” was her calm reply to his insistent, “Can I, Can I!” 

But in the end, once the feast had been consumed, and the basket repacked with checkered cloth and blanket, and the expotition started off again, somehow Kanga and Roo tagged along. Roo because, overtaken by the idea, he had jumped on Tigger’s back for another ride (and Tigger had leapt off into the woods); and Kanga saying she thought _someone_ sensible had to be involved. Her enormous jumps kept her within sight of the pair at the front, even if she found, to her chagrin, she could not quite catch up. Piglet, of course, had teamed up with Pooh. Laurie found himself rearguard, though quite what he was guarding against, he wasn’t sure, and said so. 

“Heffalumps,” Piglet whispered. “They’ve had it in for Pooh ever since he built the trap.” 

Laurie nodded sagely, tactfully hiding his smile as the trek continued, meandering through the trees which, as they got closer and closer to their destination, changed from the usual mix of pine, oak and beech to – predominantly – chestnuts. Trying a few nuts which had fallen on the ground, Piglet pronounced them sweeter than beechnuts. 

“Ow, ow!” cried Pooh with a paw full of prickles, having unsuccessfully tried to open a slightly greenish cupule. 

“I don’t think that one was quite ready to open,” explained Laurie, as he removed several sharp spines from the injured paw. “Try the brown ones. See how they bend back to let the nuts spill out when they’re ripe?” 

But Pooh had no interest in food that fought back, so they continued on their way. It wasn’t long before the path through the chestnut trees ended in a wide meadow bordering a small lake. It looked as if there was some sort of fair taking place, with rather a lot of people. 

“Oh yes,” said Laurie, when applied to for an explanation, “the South Pole is definitely the place for parties this year. Follow me!” 

He led the way to a refreshment table that had been set up not far from the pier by the lake. Pooh’s eyes grew round at the sight of all the cake. Olive’s eyes grew round at the sight of him, and wider as they moved from him to the rest. 

“Laurie...,” she began a faltering protest, before she rallied and her innate hospitality and good manners took over. “Would you prefer jam or honey with that scone?” Olive asked Pooh (and she did not even blink an eyelash as Pooh ignored the spoon and took the entire jar of honey she was holding out). 

Meanwhile Laurie led Roo over to the lake where the two joined a teenage Ralph in the dinghy, along with John and Roger Walker. He grinned at Ralph, who winked back. Clearly Ralph, too, had stopped off to pick up some friends before joining ’ birthday celebrations. 

The day shone bright and clear; but with a gentle westerly breeze, just right for sailing. Hastily Ralph helped Roo into a life preserver and used an additional harness to tie him to a life line in case he bounced that bit too far for safety. He left it to John and Roger to give Laurie basic sailing instruction, while he monitored the youngest and most exuberant member of the group. The trip from one side of the lake to the other and back took a little while and Ralph could see quite a queue had formed at the pier as they neared the shore, headed by an anxious Kanga. A little beyond, Tigger appeared to be in some sort of face-off with an elephant that held Pooh and Piglet on its shoulders. A small group of nearby Macedonians appeared to be laying bets about the outcome. 

Ralph exchanged nods with Laurie as he helped Roo off the boat. They would be seeing each other again later. This early part of the day was more for the younger characters. The wind had shifted slightly and, he realised, the sun was considerably lower in the sky too. It was time for his guests to return. He handed the lines to Niarchos as he alighted. It would take a few minutes for the boat to adjust from sail to oar; but he was well aware some visitors would actually prefer the novelty of being rowed in a trireme. Ralph led John and Roger over to the chestnut where James Turner was sitting with Timothy Stedding, enjoying a quiet pint, collecting them before he led the way back to another trail leading round the lake.

In turn, Laurie collected a basket of strawberries from one of the moderators, then rounded up the friends he had brought, and led them back to the break in the chestnut grove, where the path started back to their own novel. Pooh recounted in full the tale of how he captured and tamed a heffalump; and Tigger, when not bouncing madly on ahead, waxed full of how he outwitted the hunters who had tried to capture him. Roo, for once was quiet. Exhausted by the boat trip he slept the return journey in Kanga’s pocket. 

“Pooh!” 

Laurie could hear the calling as they approached Rabbit’s house. 

“Pooh, where _are_ you!” Christopher Robin called. 

Silently, Laurie handed the basket of berries to Pooh, before taking three steps to the side of the path. Before he faded back to his own novel, he saw Pooh and Christopher Robin rushing to hug each other; just before he faded completely he heard Pooh boast, “and I led the expotition to the South Pole all by myself!”

>>>>

In his sleep, Laurie smiled as he turned from right side to left. Olive, looking in as she went to the lavatory for her night-time ablutions before turning in, thought she had not seen him look that peaceful for quite a long time. Well, of course, teenage years were often quite a difficult time; and Laurie had been very ill – so ill dear cousin Lucy had rung to ask for her help with nursing him. Clearly he was on the mend now. Olive doubted he would want a babyish picture book at bedtime tomorrow and resolved to take the train in the morning to Harrogate. It had a nice second-hand bookshop not far off the high street where she could be sure to find something to his liking. Perhaps some Henty, she thought as she finished cleaning her teeth and put her toothbrush away. She remembered Raymond had liked Henty. 


End file.
